


Megane ga daisuki desu!

by Analinea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Derek Wears Glasses, Fluff, Glasses, Humor, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, I have zero explanation on why he has to, I just wanted him to, M/M, and brief, jokes on wearing glasses, my attempt at it, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7065961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Stiles makes fun (or tries to) of Derek wearing glasses, and one time he admits he loves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Megane ga daisuki desu!

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the very wise words of Akihito Kanbara in Beyond the Boundary declaring his love of glasses. It's my motto ever since because let's be honest, glasses are *-* 
> 
> Anyway, I wanted a fluffy break in writing the longer fic I'm working on (with angst in it, what else is new), and this is a sample of my bad humor (meaning I used those jokes on my best friend). Plus, it's been my dream to write a 5+1 ever since I discovered it, so this is a self-serving combination of two of my fav things :D
> 
> If there's any grammar mistakes or a forgotten tag, feel free to point it out!

**One-**

Stiles doesn't walk inside the loft as much as charges in.

“You know, Derek, I really think that- wow.”, the teen stops dead in his tracks, forgetting instantly what he was about to say. “Wow, what? I mean. What?”

Derek doesn't even look up from what he's doing on his laptop. “What is it, Stiles, amazed that I can use a computer?”

“I'm- no you- I mean, yes! Now that you point _that_ out! But...”, Stiles trails off, gestures vaguely Derek's way like it should clarify what he's failing to get out of his mouth. And it frankly should, because seriously, he's wearing- “You're wearing _glasses_!” the teen loudly points out.

Derek raises a hand to his face like he can't believe it either, flushes lightly. “So what?” Stiles is not deterred by the aggressive tone.

“Well, I thought...aren't werewolves supposed to, like, heal or something?”

“Or something.” Derek grits out, but now it sounds more like a petulant child's answer and Stiles tries to contain his sudden laugh. He bites his lips when he lets out a snort and puts on his best innocent face. Derek glares. From behind his glasses.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Stiles finally lets out the laughter that built up in a burst that makes him double over and almost topple to the ground when it makes his knees go weak. There's tears in his eyes. Every time he calms down enough to look back at Derek's glowering, he's hit by another fit.

It takes almost five minutes before Derek loses his patience, and Stiles is ready to congratulate the guy for his work on his temper. But he's pushed against a wall, or more like cornered because for once he doesn't hit it hard, and the wolf is in his space, growling.

It's a good thing that he took the time to take his glasses off, because Stiles would've probably combusted. And not because it would be funnier this up close. Nope.

“Okay, okay, I'll stop laughing. Promise.” he says in a soft voice, a bit sobered by what's happening. Derek lets him move away from the wall and goes back to his couch and his computer.

“What are you doing, anyway?” Stiles follows him and falls down next to him, leaving a safe distance between them.

“Research.”

“On what?” He can never leave anything alone, can he?, says the look of annoyance on Derek's face.

“On the most effective way to rip throats out.” the man huffs out, glaring above his computer screen at the wall on the other side of the living room.

“I'm pretty sure it's with your teeth.” Stiles snorts before getting up quickly and backtracking to the door. “Aaaand I'm out! Good day to you, Sourwolf.” With that, he turns around and all but run to the exit.

 

**Two-**

Stiles didn't tell anyone about Derek wearing glasses. It's not much because of a self preservation instinct, nor in particular respect of the man's privacy. It's a bit in respect for his privacy, Stiles' not a monster, but it's something else too.

Derek seemed surprised by it the next time they saw each other at a Pack meeting that was honestly more of an excuse for a game night. Obviously, Lydia beat their asses at all games of logic, but Stiles was number one with strategics. Surprisingly, Derek won the words games. Apparently, Erica and Boyd have a telepathy bond, at least that's the only acceptable explanation for the way they annihilated the other teams at charade.

Still, it's Stiles secret, and he intends to keep it. So he does his best to keep himself from commenting every time he sees Derek without his glasses on, which is all the time.

There's some minor problem in the Preserve they detected two days ago, and Scott is out with Derek to investigate. It explains the surprised shriek Stiles lets out when a hand falls on his shoulder. He wasn't waiting for any intruder tonight. Plus, he had his headphones on.

“Did I scare you?”, Derek smirks. Stiles narrows his eyes at him.

“What do you want?”

“We found this in the woods.”, Derek answers like the teen didn't try to say 'get out' with his tone. In the hand he's presenting there's a little glowing stone resting on a piece of fabric. Stiles tries his hardest not to be irritated by the intrusion.

“And why, might I ask, did you bring this to me instead of going to Deaton?” He has homework to do, for god's sake, and as much as the stone interests him he doesn't have the time for this crap.

“Out of town.” Of course. Of freaking course. Stiles sighs.

“Okay, put it on my desk, I'll look it up.” He turns back to his computer, but doesn't hear Derek leave so he rolls his chair back to face him.

“Oh you want me to do this immediately now?”

“Yes, I want you do do this _immediately now_. That's doesn't even mean anything.”, Derek mutters the last part, and Stiles briefly wonders when this grown man started bantering like a teenager with him. 

He gets up, takes out an old book from his shelf and puts it against Derek's chest for him to catch it up. When he's older, he wants to be a book. Because- because  _knowledge_ obviously. Right? Right.

“Then help me out and read this and I'll look at what I have on my laptop.”

Derek huffs in annoyance, drops down in the chair next to the bed and opens the book. Stiles sits down and opens a few windows on his computer screen before turning back to Derek. He freezes. Then rolls his chair until he's right in front of the man and in his personal bubble.

“You're squinting.”, he remarks, narrowing his eyes like he's studying an alien species. Derek looks up from the book with a blank face. “How many fingers?”, Stiles asks with a straight face, raising his hand and showing three fingers. The man glances at the fingers before going back to look at Stiles in annoyance.

“I'm not blind, Stiles. I just need glasses.”, he says slowly, “Stop making fun of it.” Then puts a foot against Stiles' chair and pushes it back. Stiles grins.

He gets up and goes to his dad's study. When he comes back, he throws something that Derek catches perfectly.

“What's this?”

“My dad's reading glasses. Try them on, if they're alright it will save you a migraine.”

Stiles goes back to looking up what the stone could be in the numerous files he has saved, not bothering to turn and see whether Derek is wearing them or not. The teen really doesn't want the mental image of Derek in his father's glasses, if that's the case.

 

**Three-**

It's early in the morning and Stiles' on his way to his dad's station with some breakfast. He couldn't sleep after five so he figured he might as well get some food for his father. Of course, being half awake means that the breakfast is actually not in his possession yet.

That's why he stops in some kind of coffee shop between his house and the Sheriff's station. The doorbell rings in perfect harmony with Stiles' yawn, and he scratches his head while blinking sleepily at the menu hanging over the counter. How he can want to sleep so bad, but can't actually do it is way over his comprehension.

Stiles turns to eye the line in front of him and lets out a barking laughter that makes the man focused on his phone's screen look up. Derek frowns and lets the customer between him and Stiles pass before him.

“What are you doing here so early?” Stiles asks.

“What are _you_ doing here so early?” 

“Oh, are you a parrot now? A were-parrot? Or are you cursed? Can you only repeat- wait. You're not cursed are you?” Stiles' eyes widen and he stares at Derek like he might explode.

“I'm not-”

“Okay, you're not cursed, that's a relief! And hey, dude-”

“Don't call me-”

“How can you see your screen?”

“Dude. Seriously, Stiles?”

Stiles smiles, then stops smiling, then smiles again.

“Couldn't sleep this morning.”, he finally declares and gestures at Derek to move a little when the line does. The man's face does something a little complicated, like the wheel in this TV game and everyone is waiting anxiously to see what it'll stop on. The result is something along a line of “constipated worry”. Stiles is getting good at this. He can feel it.

“Haven't taken my Adderall either his morning, so excuse the rambling.”

“I excuse the rambling. The joke, though-”

“What can I get you, sir?”, a voice interrupts him before he can say something that Stiles has a high suspicious could have been funny. It's a shame, really, he has hints of Derek's humor but it's so subtle he's not sure he's catching it every time.

Derek orders, then Stiles does the same and can't help but be pleased when the wolf waits for him so they exit the shop together.

“I'm so happy it's spring again!”, Stiles exclaim, “So, I have to get this to the station. But I don't have anything else to do today.” He stops himself but it's too late, his mouth moved too fast again. Derek takes a sip of his coffee.

“I ran here.” Stiles looks him over and there's barely any sweat on his shirt. It's highly unfair. His mind stutters, stops, reboots.

“You- you...do you need a lift?” he tentatively offers before processing correctly the sentence. “You _ran_ here? But your loft is on the other side of town!” Derek's mouth turns up at the corners, like he's pleased with himself. 

“I can't drive without my glasses.”

“Don't even, I've seen you drive without your- wait did you just-?” Stiles runs after Derek who's already halfway to the Jeep. He chuckles. “Sourwolf has jokes!” Derek's look makes him drop his smile. “Or...not?” Stiles' face is frozen in terror for all the time he was in the Camaro with Derek driving. But the man snorts and looks smug.

Stiles' shoulders drop, and he point a finger Derek's way while getting around the Jeep and opening it. “I am not amused. At all.”

“Yes you are.”, the wolf states, opening the passenger door and getting in.

“Yes I am.”, Stiles sighs, and smiles before climbing in the Jeep too.

 

**Four-**

Stiles wakes groggily up to an annoying beeping. He would really much like to turn his alarm off, except he feels heavy and it sounds  _weird_ . Like, too slow and probably not as loud as it should be even if it seems shrilling to him.

“'urn i'off”, he mumbles.

“Stiles? Stiles?” It's his dad's voice, and the concern in his voice is what makes Stiles open his eyelids with great effort.

His father is going around the bed to the door so he can call a nurse. The next minutes are a bit fuzzy for Stiles, still not fully awake and a bit dizzy at the way the nurse, the doctor and his dad hover around him and take vitals or whatever they have to do. He doesn't really pay attention, raking his mind to try and remember how he got himself in the hospital.

After a few minutes, the doctor leaves and Stiles' dad follows him after pressing lightly his son's hand. “I'll be right back, kiddo, okay? I'll send someone to keep you company.” Stiles wants to ask him to wait, to tell him what happened, not to leave him alone, but he doesn't find his voice.

After two minutes tops, Derek comes in. He has circles under his eyes.

“Hey, Sourwolf.”, Stiles drawls with a lopsided smile. Derek sinks in the chair next to the bed.

“Hey.” There's a silence after that, and the teen doesn't know what to do of his look. The man roams his eyes over Stiles' face with an exhausted air.

“What happened.”, Stiles croaks. Derek holds a cup of water to him and he takes a grateful sip.

“You almost- you got shot.” Derek's voice cracks on the last word even if his face stays carefully blank. He clears his throat. “You were just walking back from...I don't even know from where.”

It all comes back to Stiles then. It was dark, and he couldn't really sleep so he thought walking around a little would help. He got farther than he thought, lost in his mind, but he was still in the neighborhood. Just as he turned to head back home, he heard a loud bang that made him jump. He looked sharply at the sky wondering for a few milliseconds if a plane broke the sound barrier somewhere around. Then the pain hit him.

“Calm down, Stiles. Calm- shit- Stiles, breathe.”, Derek's voice comes from far away.

“Derek, I-”, the teen gets around his shallow breathing, the heart monitor's beeping quickening. He stretches a hand and grips Derek's shirt.

“You're okay, now. You're okay.”

Stiles manages to calm down before alerting the nurses. Then Derek explains how he heard the shot and decided to investigate since he was awake. He found Stiles in a pool of his own blood, gasping for air, just as a neighbor found the courage to get out to see what happened. The ambulance arrived barely in time.

“It was hunters. The Argents took care of it.”

“Okay, that's good. That's good.” Stiles starts to feel a slight discomfort, so he guesses the drugs must wear off a little. Derek immediately reaches out to do his pain drain thing, making Stiles jerk away and hiss at the pain caused by the move.

“Let me-”

“Nope!”

“Stiles.”, Derek insists with his best 'you're infuriating' voice. Stiles takes pride in annoying Derek. It means he can get to him, it means Derek's not indifferent. Not that the sole fact that he's here right now is not confirmation enough that the wolf cares.

“Where's Scott, by the way?” Stiles asks with a frown.

“School day, don't worry he'll be here to fuss as soon as he's out. Now let me-” Derek groans, reaching again to be slapped on the hand.

“I said no, don't make me spray you with water!”

“Stiles, I really don't see why-”

“Then buy new eyes! Yours don't work anyway.” Stiles' proud of his wit. A part of his brain tells him he really has nothing to be proud of but he's just been shot, cut him some slack.

“That's low.” Derek says in a false wounded voice.

“Just like your vision.” Derek huffs a laugh.

“Okay, good one.”

“Yeah, I know. I have a great sense of humor.” Stiles grins. Then he shrugs, bits back a groan. “But, I don't really mean it. Keep you eyes, I like them.” He feels awkward saying this and doesn't dare looking at Derek, but he figures he can always blame the painkillers later.

“You do?” Derek softly asks. Stiles turns his eyes back to the man.

“Yeah, they're great.”, he answers the same way. Derek gives him a small smiles then. He opens his mouth to say something. And the door opens on the Sheriff.

 

**Five-**

They're running. What's new? Stiles is supporting Derek's weight with Scott on the other side. There's blood trailing down the wolf's face, and he's barely conscious. Stiles tries not to worry, but it's not working so far.

“You _had_ to go and sacrifice yourself, huh? Again!” Stiles pants out, not even knowing if Derek can hear him or not but needing to vent his frustration at feeling useless at the moment.

“Buy some time.” And great, at least the blows to the head didn't mess up his comprehension and speech centers. That's a box Stiles can cross. They get to the Jeep, and Scott looks at his best friend meaningfully. Problem is, Stiles doesn't understand what it means, but he caught several of the same looks between Scott and Lydia in the past few weeks. It's starting to irritate him.

“Stay with him, I'll drive.”, Scott doesn't offer, he orders. Ordinarily, Stiles wouldn't take it from him, but it's getting hard to breath over the fear for Derek. He's healing, alright, but those were hits that would've caused brain damage to humans. And brains are more fragile than we think, so there's no saying how werewolf healing will work around it.

Stiles puts Derek's head on his lap, and Scott starts the car. They're way over the speed limit as soon as they're on a regular road. 

“Stay awake, you hear me?” Stiles pats Derek's cheek. The man's eyes roll around, unfocused.

“'m awake.”

“Yeah, I can see that, let's keep it that way, okay? Okay, talk to me. Say something.”

“I can't see anything.”, is what Derek goes with. Stiles feels suddenly very cold, dread clawing at his chest. It's like his heart turned to ice, and not in an uncaring way. In a painful, anguished way.

“You never see anything anyway, am I right?”, he tries to joke but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He runs his shaking hands in Derek's hair and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. Scott shares a look with him in the rear-view mirror and goes even faster.

They're at Deaton's five minutes later, but it seems like two or three eternities to Stiles. Derek kept mumbling under his breath because Stiles urged him to stay awake but he was too tired to speak clearly.

“Get him on the table.”, the vet says with his usual calm. His wide eyes betray him though. He kicks Stiles out of the room, keeping Scott for help. Stiles wants to argue but he understand. He spent his childhood in a hospital. They always get the relatives out of the room when there's an emergency.

So all he can do is sit around. Get memories of his dad in the same position. And realize that there's some things he should have said. If only he had known them himself before.

 

**And one-**

Stiles sits up abruptly when there's a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even realized he fell asleep on the chairs of the waiting room. Scott hovers over him with an understanding smile. It makes Stiles feel instantly better: this is not the look of someone bearing bad news.

“He's okay.”, Scott says, “He's okay, you can see him if you want to.”

“Thanks.” Stiles gets up but doesn't move yet.

“Yeah, it's alright.” Scott shrugs, but Stiles shakes his head. He needs his best friend to understand.

“No, no. Scott. Thanks. Really, I don't know-”, his voice cracks and he looks away. Scott puts a hand on his arm.

“I know.”, he simply says, and pushes Stiles a little to get him moving.

The teen approaches the doors slowly, a little nervous. Derek is sitting on the examination table, and looks up at Stiles when he finally comes in, gives him a smile.

“Hey.”

“H- hey.”, Stiles stutters a little. “You can- you can see again!” He gestures loosely in the general direction of Derek's face. “That's...that's great.”

“Yeah, well, I can see as much as I did before so, you know...”, Derek answers with a playful smile, “I'll still need my glasses. You can carry on with the jokes.”

Stiles chuckles, chokes on his own spit and clears his throat. God, he's so awkward sometimes.

“That's good. That's great actually, because I...”, he hesitates, bites his lips and takes a sudden interest in the x-rays displayed on the wall. What even is that thing?

“You...?”, Derek gets him back on track. Stiles makes a split second decision: does he execute a bad back flip or...

“I really like your glasses.”, he gets out as fast as possible. He points at Derek's face quickly, “I...like...your face with the glasses.”, puts his hand in his pocket and rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Well, now that you mention it...”, Derek reaches in his jacket pocket, “I happen to have them on me.”

He puts them on his nose, the right lens cracked a little. Stiles feels his face heat up.

“Oh”, is all he manages to say, and Derek chuckles.

“Nothing clever to say?” He gets up from the table and gets all up in Stiles' space.

“Nah, I got nothing.” Stiles laughs a little breathlessly.

“Good thing we don't really need to talk, then.”, he puts a hand under Stiles chin, the teen starring at him with needles crawling up his spine, breath short. Next thing he knows, they're kissing, and he closes his eyes. He'll have all the time in the world to see Derek and his glasses anyway. He already has a few very, very good ideas about how and when. It makes him laugh in the kiss. It's the best feeling in the world. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! If you have half a second even just to put a "<3" in the comments if you liked the story, I'll probably die of happiness! Either way, kudos are the highlights of my days :)  
> You also can find me on
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://kinsbournescream.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> :D


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